


Vengeance

by polytropic



Series: Purim Gift 2013 [2]
Category: Animorphs - Katherine A. Applegate
Genre: Collection: Purimgifts Day 2, Gen, POV First Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-22
Updated: 2013-02-22
Packaged: 2017-12-03 06:02:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/695000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/polytropic/pseuds/polytropic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Good thing unwinnable fights are kind of Rachel's specialty.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Vengeance

**Author's Note:**

  * For [primeideal](https://archiveofourown.org/users/primeideal/gifts).



> Warnings for canon-typical violence. Image taken from www.e-bogu.com.

They’re opening the door of my cage now. It’s a simple bolt on the outside; if I run, or fight, maybe I can get one of the others open? No chance, I’d be caught before I made it to one of the other cages, and the Visser’s Hork-Bajir blades make it ridiculous to try.

<Rachel.> Ax’s thought-speak wobbles. He’s scared for me too. <This Visser Six probably does not understand morphing capabilities very well. He likely knows about the time limit, but he certainly does not know that you can acquire new forms and use them immediately. Perhaps…?>

Two humans grab my arms and drag me out of the cage. My hand bangs on the bars and pain lances through it. There’s going to be more pain, soon. I can’t think about that, I need to think about what Ax told me. My ticket out.

They haul me up in front of the Visser. I think they’re hoping his authority will intimidate me. Whatever, after the way Visser Three pretty much smells of evil and Visser One seems to know everything about you just by looking at you, this guy is pretty tame. He can’t even threaten me himself thanks to that…

Thanks to that Hork-Bajir body.

I can’t stop myself from grinning as a plan begins to form. I let my voice come out mocking.  

“I bet the mighty Visser is too afraid to even interrogate me himself. Will you have your human servants do it? How sad. How weak.”

Every seems to freeze, and I’m pretty sure the glares I’m getting are the Yeerk equivalent of ‘oh no you _didn’t_.’ Tough, you alien scumbags. I did.  

<Tell him Visser Three would do better!> Ax urges. I don’t know if he’s figured out my plan or just feels like insulting the guy, but either way I flip my hair dismissively and add,

“I’ve been face-to-face with Visser Three. You think you can measure up to him? Cowering behind your inferiors is a great start.”

The human Controller hits me across the face. My head snaps to the side and my eyes water, but compared to other pain I’ve felt in this war, it’s nothing. Behind me, someone gasps, I think Cassie.

“Pathetic,” I spit, and before she can hit me again, Visser Six roars something that makes every Controller in the room flinch. The next minute I’m being dragged along the corridor behind him, into a room that’s empty of everything except a chair with straps on the arms and legs.

Wow, they actually have a real interrogation room in this spaceship. I'm torn between thinking that's kind of ridiculous, and feeling some of that terror hit me at last at the sight of the chair.

My chance comes when one of the human Controllers lets go of me to open the retraints. I stomp on the other one’s foot, hard, and when he yells in pain and weakens his grip, I break free. There’s only an instant to decide what to do, and in it I jump straight for the Visser. One of his blades comes up and bites into my arm; the slicing pain makes me scream, but I laugh too because that counts as physical contact. My blood drips onto the floor, but that doesn’t matter because he goes suddenly still, the way every creature does while I make my own personal copy of its DNA.

Hello, Hork-Bajir form.

Now the question is: how fast can I morph?

Turns out, just fast enough that by the time my enemies reach me, I’m a six-foot tall razorblade with a grudge.

<So,> I tell the Visser and his cronies in thought-speak, <Let’s go over again how you threatened my friends.>


End file.
